Excuse me? I think I'm Lost
by FreedomOfThinking
Summary: No name. No memories. No friends and no backup. Just a lot of enemies and a voice in my head. I can't wait to see how this goes.


What.

The.

Fuck.

I… I can't remember anything. Well, not everything. I'm speaking English for god's sake, or atleast, I'm thinking in English, but… I don't know my name. I know what a name is, I know everyone has one, but I can't fucking remember mine!

A sense of fear, a sharp warning unlike any feeling my jumbled mind could comprehend builds, and within seconds I'm panicking.

And it's not good. I mean, after all I can't tell where I am, I don't know why I'm here, and I can't even-

"Stop!" I shouted out, knowing how strange it must look, a naked man just shouting at himself, "calm down!" but I needed to focus.

Some rational part kicks in, and I get a grip on reality. An internal checklist lines itself up neatly, and my primary focus becomes the world around me.

Where am I?

So I brought both hands up to my bleary eyes, rubbing the dust and rubble from them. Dust and rubble?

I was in some kind of… hole? No, looking around me, I was laying in some kind of crater, a gigantic impact zone. A spray of water caught me off guard, so much so that I swiped pathetically at the assumed direction it had come from.

My clearing vision allowed me to look at where the liquid had come from.

A broken pipe? It was just casually sticking out from banks of my crater…. Huh.

Moving my legs was more than a chore, considering I was pretty much wedged in the 'me' sized hole in the ground.

Come to think about it, so was my torso and after a moment of a failed attempt at rotating it, my head.

'_Not the worst situation I've been in_'

….

Okay, how do I know that? Oh! Maybe any second now my brain would suddenly come up with an answer; I would receive an epiphany! If that happened I'd have something a little more solid to work on.

"Not the worst situation I've been in?" I muttered, confused about the thought I had just had. While indeed those words had originated in my head, and most definitely came from me… I don't know? That statement didn't feel like me.

It was almost as if I had, and I know how crazy this sounds, another voice in my head.

What an odd thought.

Let's see what I could remember if I put a little bit of effort into it.

Lying completely still in my crater, I closed my eyes and concentrated really hard. The actual effort of forcing my brain to realise it had forgotten something… well if anyone was looking into the pit they'd see me, as bare as the day I was born with a red face and a constipated expression.

After a few moments of futile effort, I relaxed, huffing out a cloud of air.

Man, I didn't realise how cold it was, what the hell.

Frustration was an emotion I was familiar with, not that I could remember why I was so connected to it, but it was slowly seeping into me.

I'm stuck in the ground of what I assume is a street, trapped, naked, cold and uncomfortable, with a slight amount of water spraying on my face.

Without any context, I could see how something like this would be considered annoying.

"What _the _**fuck **_**is GOING ON!"**_

Something happened.

And I mean _**something**_, because I don't recall being able to shatter concrete with glowing blue tendrils that emanated from my body.

And yet, In an instant I'm free but slightly more tired than I was before. There was a wear on my mind that I hadn't felt before. Now free, I guess the normal thing to do would be to get too my feet and high tail it out of this grey pit.

Nothing had been normal about what just happened. Lacking any kind of memory or any moment to compare to this, I shouldn't be able to make any connections to what had just freed me. Yet there was some kind of baseline in my mind that told me how _wrong _the blue stuff had been. It wasn't normal, at all.

I had to take a few seconds to really process what had just happened. Blue _energy_ had just exited my body, forming appendages with matter, capable of collapsing solid concrete…

What the fuck is going on.

'Get up' I think to myself, 'snap out of it and get up'

For some reason, one that I just can't explain, I knew I was right. I knew so very desperately that I had to get up, and I had to get moving.

In an instant I lept to my feet and nearly fell over. Note to self, don't move so quickly because my head was still swimming. Large amounts of motion was a big no no for my eyes, but now free from the concrete I was gradually able to take in the area around me.

Time to figure some shit out.

The crater suggests some kind of impact site, and taking a second to properly stand and observe my concrete hole, a significant amount of force had been applied to create it. My arms naturally crossed over my chest as I considered the facts, no attention given to anything other than my immediate surroundings.

And as strange and disturbing a thought it is, where I had just been laying was the exact location where all the force of the impact would have been concentrated.

Therefore I am the most likely cause of the crater.

I began to turn in what would be a complete circle, taking my time to perfectly analyze the rim of the crater. The break was perfect-

"Control... are you seeing this?"

The metallic 'clack' that followed was a noise of danger. I don't know how I knew, but whoever was standing behind me had just prepared some kind of weapon. Thinking quickly, I decided it was best not to startle them. So I slowly began to turn myself around, in order to face them.

"Hey! Don't move! Put your hands in the air!"

'_Comply, but turn_' This voice in my head was going to get me killed, but considering I didn't know what else to do…. Meh, might as well.

Both of my hands came up, raised above my head in what I _somehow _knew was what the person behind me wanted.

You know what, I'm just going to assume a few things from now on, this whole 'forgot everything' is starting to get a bit annoying. With my hands in the air, I twisted around slowly, knowing not to make any sudden-

"Subject understands English"

Oh. A second voice.

Finally facing them, I noticed that there were indeed a few more people than just two. About six men stood around my crater, shoulder to shoulder, having moved up as I was slowly taking in the surroundings. Man, they moved quietly.

'_Special Forces'_

Uh huh. What's a 'Special Forces?'

Each of them held long objects in their hands, with pointed ends and extended parts which were gripped by their hands.

"Those are guns right?" I asked after the voice prompted me to what the things were. The 'clack' noise I had heard early was the sound of the gun being readied. Oh crap, I really hope these people weren't going to kill me. I didn't even know where I was.

It would really suck to die not knowing anything.

"Subject is speaking to us" I couldn't tell which of them had spoken, considering they all were dressed in full black clothing, tactical vests and identical helmets with face masks…. But I'd wager it was the one somewhat in the middle of the group, who had raised his weapon ever so slightly.

Why were they so nervous?

"Roger that, switching to tranq"

"Hey! You can't just ignore me! I don't even know who-" the feeling of danger, a horrid shiver that wriggled its way like lightning up my spine made itself known.

The man who I assumed was speaking- I had been right! - was reaching for a smaller gun at his side.

'_Run!_'

For only a moment I debated on my escape, weather or not I was actually going to make a run for it or not….

Only for a moment though.

The fear won out in the end.

The dizziness I felt early wasn't enough to keep me in place, and with a little effort I jumped…. Not realizing it would send me nearly 15 feet into the air.

Holy shit!

* * *

"_Subject is mobile_!" Tactical One reported over the communication line shared by all Shield Agents. From his nest up above the Brooklyn streets, Agent Barton turned, his focus moved back to the crater rather then the police blockade keeping civilians out.

The news of a falling object above New York had gotten the attention of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division very quickly. Even upon impact of the object, the Agency already had boots on the ground, assets in place and a few suppression teams to keep the civilian populace out of the way.

It was Barton who had originally reported what the object had _actually_ been. Because it definitely wasn't malfunctioning Stark tech.

An enhanced individual, and if going by the strange energy projection ability, a dangerous one.

Tactical One seemed to have had the situation in order, complying with Control's order to subdue the target, rather than eliminate…. Until the target had leapt right above and over their heads, landing on the empty sidewalk behind one of the many parked and vacant cars.

From his perch, Hawkeye had seen all of it.

"Control" Barton calmly spoke, drawing an arrow from his quiver, "I've got a clean shot"

There was silence on the comm.

"Control?"

"_Disable only Barton, Operations wants it alive"_

Clint drew the arrow back, a smooth breath following the fluid motion as he watched the Subject stumble about on the street. He wouldn't kneecap him, too much potential damage. A thigh thought, seemed like a much more appropriate target. The subject would be neutralized momentarily as far as Clint was concerned, and only some minor surgery would be required.

The arrow cut through the air, a blur to most. It reached the target in a second.

Clint knew the aerodynamics of his arrows, knew that the specialised material covering the tip would split right through flesh and bone. He'd seen people faint from the pain before, and was oddly curious to see how the Subject would react-

"OW! MOTHER FUCKER! MY LEG!"

* * *

The curse left my lips as the really painful stick cut right through my left leg.

"OW! MOTHER FUCKER! MY LEG!"

I had landed behind rows of cars parked on either side of the road after my leap to freedom. I was in some kind of city or something, and the houses on either side of me were filled with people that lived here. A few faces had peaked out quickly, observing the chaos.

It wasn't every day that you saw a naked man being chased by police. A few thin and orange trees lined the sidewalk, each one more than likely equidistant from one another. City planners, the most meticulous of bastards.

But then the pointy stick hit me.

'_An Arrow ...it's Clint' _my head told me, the voices of the Special Forces people slowly getting closer.

"It's what!?" I shouted, cringing in pain as I began to hobble away, the fear still in me. I had to get away now, or bad things would happen.

And my question remained unanswered.

"Thanks brain" I growled out loud, bracing myself against a vehicle as blood seeped from my wound. Every step I took with my left leg was akin to molten fire pouring through my body, and the red splotches that dripped onto the dusty and dirty sidewalk was the perfect trail for them to follow.

The voices were getting closer… uncomfortably close. I couldn't outrun them, and I definitely couldn't hide on the street. They would catch up to me, or follow the blood. Not like there were any good hiding places, the Clint would probably put another pain stick through my leg.

Why did I have to be on the street? Why not just use the high gr-

Oh. Shit.

I mean…. it _was_ going to hurt my leg, but rather safe than sorry right?

Now the people inside their homes who were witnessing the police chase a naked man with an arrow in his leg… they were then treated to the sight of me clumsily leaping up the full height of a building.

…

"Oh crap"

And failing to actually land on the roof, but instead slamming onto the surface and rolling off the other side into the street across from the one I had been stuck in.

Ow.

* * *

"Tac One, Subject is hit and bleeding, behind the Silver Lexus" Barton keyed into the comm, watching as the naked thing hobbled away slowly, cursing under its breath.

It was only making the pain and injury worse. But Barton had to admire its spirit. The thing was trying as hard as it could to get away, for fear of something. He couldn't blame it for being worried about having guns pointed at its face. But being the uninvited extraterrestrial it was, SHIELD wasn't going to just let it have free range of the land.

"_Thanks for the assist, Hawkeye. Control, we're moving to detain! Hudson! Take point" _

The black clad soldiers swarmed away from the impact site, forming into pretrained patterns as they moved back to where the subject had landed.

By force of habit, Barton had already nocked another arrow, yet had his bow down, knowing the struggle was over.

Perhaps he'd-

The subject jumped again, higher than before, easily clearing the building across the street from Barton.

"Subject is on the roof" Barton brought his bow up even as the Alien was touching down… only to watch it crumple against the Brooklyn rooftop.

The fact it landed painfully on its side halted his second shot. But for only a moment.

Barton loosed the arrow, aiming for the other leg.

He watched the subject as the arrow streaked through the air…. Only for it to continue on, missing its target.

The very same target that had rolled off the other side of the building.

"Subject is on 8th now, possibly unconscious, probably mobile"

Control chimed in, orders coming in more frantically now, "_Priority is containment, unless there is danger present to the civilians this stays non-lethal. Tac One get moving, you've got a ground asset inbound to assist with takedown. Hawkeye, you'll be supporting the asset from the air" _

"_Affirmative control, we're moving" _came the voice from the tactical unit, even as Barton hung his bow behind him.

If he was going to be operating aerial that meant a helicopter. Nearly a moment later he began to pick up the dull thump of the blades. So soon?

That meant they'd had one on standby. Well, SHIELD was always well known for being one of the most prepared governmental agencies, even if everyone else saw them as paranoid.

"Thanks for the ride Control" Barton cheerfully reported as the chopper approached him, "who's our ground asset?"

"_No one special" _a very firm, yet delightfully familiar voice broke into the comms.

"Good to hear your voice Nat"

* * *

Officer Roy Stanton was a good cop. His peers knew him for his kind and sunny personality. His chubby face was well known among the Brooklyn suburbs, and he himself, was a very liked person. No one in the community was afraid of approaching this officer.

Many would come up to him just to ask him how his day was going, and as he stood by a thin alleyway, keeping people from entering the cordoned off street, Roy was being his charming and polite self, letting the good folks of the neighbourhood know that the situation was being handled.

Him among many other officers of the precinct had been called out as soon as the meteorite warning had come in. A government agency had contacted them asking for some help on the ground. Which Roy could completely understand, they wanted to make sure the people were safe, in case this object landed on someone, or a building even.

Most of the area had been evacuated, but Roy knew Brooklyn, and some of the people were too stubborn to move for anyone or anything. Miss Chang, a grumpy old woman with a heart of gold stood beside him, trying constantly to look into the alley way.

"Please Miss Chang, this is a police matter" but the plea had no bite to it. The old lady was just curious about what was happening in her neighbourhood.

"I think it's Stark's fault. Fox news has been saying Stark doesn't care about the American people anymore! Since the return from Afghanistan my grandson says that Stark doesn't even care about our country anymore! Rich people have always been a problem, I'm telling you" she leaned slowly to the right, attempting to look past Roy once more.

"Please, Miss Chang" he stepped in front of her again, "perhaps you should just go home, I'm sure the situation will be resolved any moment now"

That was when the roof of his patrol car collapsed in.

Miss Chang shrieked and moved faster than her age suggested she could, hiding behind the heavyset police officer.

Roy's training kicked in.

His gun was drawn and pointed towards his now totalled vehicle in a second, stance perfectly placed to allow a discharge of his weapon without destabilising him.

"Ahhhh… my back" a soft voice groaned, and the body which had landed atop his vehicle rolled off of it, meatily slapping to the pavement.

Roy's inner samaritan, and dutiful police cop mentality kicked in. His weapon was holstered a second before he moved to the figure.

"Sir! Sir are you alright?" he came forward to the man, leaving Miss Chang to stand and stare.

He dropped to a crouch beside the naked a bleeding man, worry settling into him.

"Dispatch, this is officer Stanton, I've got a potential situation on hand, possibly needing an ambulance at 8th Avenue" Stanton ignored the affirmation on the other side of the radio to observe the man.

Firstly he was naked.

That was obvious.

His sudden fall onto the top of his car left him with a multitude of cuts and scrapes. There was a lot of blood… more than what-

Then he saw the black rod sticking from the man's leg.

Was that… an arrow?

"Sir! Are you awake? Can you hear me?"

* * *

I drifted for a few moments, the fuzzy feeling still in my head, but slowly receding… I just wanted to sleep.

"Sir! Sir are you alright?"

I first had hit the car, and then the floor. Both impacts had sucked but I still couldn't figure out which one was worse.

There was a man, and he was speaking to me, trying to get my attention.

Blearily, my eyes opened, finally responding to my will. I looked up at the guy who was talking.

'_Cop'_

A man with a very worried face looked down at me. He was crouched at my side, hands out but not touching me, obviously unsure of what he should do.

"Oh hi" I mumbled, slowly bringing myself to sit up.

The man hastened forward, helping me slowly up.

"It's alright sir, there's an ambulance on the way. They'll be here soon"

And like that, I was back, the fear returning even as my head swam.

'_They're coming. Get out. Out!'_

The voice was adamant about escape.

I looked to the man, taking in his worried brown eyes and short black hair.

"What's your name?"

He looked surprised for a second, as if of all questions, he had not expected that one. His confusion was masked in an instant, and he replied with a soft smile.

"Officer Roy Stanton, Mister. Don't worry, help is on the way"

The whirling wind and heavy thumping of helicopter blades told me the exact opposite.

"Yeah. I don't think I can stick around and wait"

I reached down to my leg and pulled the arrow out.

Roy watched in horror as the man growled in pain, blood leaking from his leg even faster than before. He had just pulled the arrow out. Even though the head of the projectile had broken off from the fall, or atleast Roy assumed that, to remove the rest of it must have been agonizing.

"Sir!" he said, watching in horror but unsure what to do.

"I'm alright!" the man snarled, "please help me up"

"I… I don't think you should"

"PLEASE!" the man hissed, looking him in the eyes as one of his hands clutched his leg.

And so Roy helped the naked man to his feet.

"I really don't think you should be standing" and as the man took a step forward and nearly fell, "or moving! Where are your clothes?"

The blonde haired nudist turned to him, a sardonic smile across his dirty face, "your asking that question _now?_"

Roy spluttered as the man took another step, this time his stance more secure.

Officer Roy finally kicked in.

"Sir. You should really wait for the ambulance, you're injured and-"

That's when the sound of rapidly displacing air finally picked up in Roy's mind.

The helicopter broke the building line, and Roy couldn't help but stare up at the mat black aerial vehicle. Obviously government but what was it doing here! Surely the crash site wasn't all that-

A few things clicked in his mind, and Roy turned back to the man.

Only to find him gone.

"Oh you've really done it now Roy" the cop said to himself as Tactical Officers in full military gear swarmed into his street.

* * *

"_Control, this is Aerial One" _the communication came in crystal clear, and Alexander Pierce barely gave it a second of attention, his eyes fixed on the main monitor of the operations room at SHIELD headquarters.

The early alert satellites had registered the first object only a day before it broke through the atmosphere, with the second having landed and been secured nearly a week ago.

As Secretary of the World Security Council, the boss of SHIELD Director Nick Fury, Alexander Goodwin Pierce had the operational clearance to make any call for any situation.

Right now he needed to get a full understanding of the situation. The first object had made landfall in Canada and had been acquired easily, considering it was some kind of suit. The techs were still working on what exactly it was, but Pierce was a patient man. He knew the answers would come in time.

That was the exact issue with the second object. Considering it wasn't an object, but a living breathing extra terrestrial, that judging by the video and satellite feeds, looked a hell of a lot like a human.

But he was past being concerned about that.

What mattered was the situation was handled before he had to deploy anymore resources to the scene.

Unknown to all in the room, beside his personal bodyguard, Pierce had other obligations to meet.

"_Subject is making a run for Greenwood heights, over"_

The young operator confirmed the information, "Roger that Aerial One, your asset is authorised for another attempt"

Pierce stepped forward, gaining the attention of the Operations Chief and everyone else in the room.

The Secretary looked directly at the younger Operations Chief

"I want this handled before the Subject reaches the bridge, Chief. Pull any assets you need, but if he makes it into New York I don't need to inform you about how bad the exposure could be"

"Yes sir" the Chief snapped, turning around and barking orders, "Bring up Tactical Three and Four, I want boots on the ground at the bridge, I want a Quinjet-" the Chief paused and looked back to Pierce, who merely met his gaze

"I want two in the air" Pierce held the gaze, "with a Sniper team per bird" Pierce nodded and returned his eyes to the Operations screens.

The room returned to normal, or as normal as a high intense bag and tag operation could be.

Alexander Pierce idly rubbed the small ring on his pinkie.

* * *

Natasha Romanoff was gaining ground on her target. He was still a half street ahead, but the distance between the Black Widow and her prey was shortening.

Her target had gained some reprieve after flinging himself over a building, but in an all out run, he wouldn't get far.

She still had to be mildly impressed however.

For someone who had taken an arrow from Clint, he was moving pretty quickly. She knew it wasn't easy to walk away from an encounter with Hawkeye. After all, she had.

But he must have removed the arrow. The tactical team were barely keeping pace with her and obviously hadn't noticed it, but Natasha could see the spots of blood on the ground. He was bleeding heavily.

"This is Black Widow" Nat spoke into her wrist communication link, "I'll have him in 5"

"_Agent Romanoff" _Nat remembered that voice instantly, and shelved the thoughts regarding Secretary Pierce being in Op's Control for the moment, "_I hope our Subject is brought back in one piece"_

Nat huffed back a, "I'll do my best, Sir"

"_This is Falcon 1, we'll have eyes on target in 10, Aerial one, might want to give us a bit of room"_

Nat narrowed her eyes even as she dodged around a pedestrian. This street still had a lot of civilians in it, not giving anyone on the op, even Barton, a clear shot of the target. But the benefit of chasing a bleeding naked man was that people tended to get out of the way after noticing what had just ran past them.

But Barton was being pulled out of the air space. Falcon 1 was a Quinjet callsign and helicopters and Quinjets didn't mix well together in the same airspace. Pierce had obviously approved heavier ordinance for the retrieval of the target at the expense of decreasing operational security.

But she couldn't argue with it. After all, Nat had thought it was overkill to assign her as a backup asset. She had readily assumed Barton would be enough to secure the site.

So when the containment line had been reported as broken and that the subject was free roaming the streets….

Well she'd never admit to anyone else that she was surprised.

The Spy focused back to the present.

Her target was reaching the end of 8th Avenue. It would take him some time to climb that fence, and then the barb wire would-

Then he jumped, right over the fence and through the large trees behind it.

"Well that's new" Nat muttered to herself, before focusing on her math.

A mental map of Brooklyn came into her mind, recalling all the paths and directions she could take, and where her target would currently be.

After all, she didn't know the area perfectly, but had a general lay out for the sake of just this scenario.

"He'll be on the train tracks!" Natasha informed, pushing herself even faster to keep up, "Tac One, take 9th and try and cut him off"

"_Roger -huff- that"_

Nat would have rolled her eyes at the out of breath soldier, but she had a mission to complete.

She clambered up the fence, her body suit's durable material protecting her from the barb wire as she rolled over to the other side.

The Black Widow didn't fail missions.

She wasn't going to break that fact today.

* * *

Holy crap she was still following me!

Red haired chick was still behind me, and that sense of danger was growing the closer she got to me.

Not good, not good, NOT GOOD!

The tracks were empty, and I wasted no time running across them. In the dusk that was slowly building, no one would notice me running for what I readily assumed was my life.

Still, the novelty of the situation hadn't run out for me yet, and even as my leg screamed in pain, my lungs pulled in desperate oxygen and my heart pounded within my chest, I couldn't help but smile.

'_Danger_!'

I ducked, as the object went sailing over me, circular in shape.

'Jump!'

And I did, nearly 10 feet right over the small ball that lay on the-

The blast threw me even further than I had intended, blowing my right over the safety fence which protected the railway line from the populace.

Or was it the other way round?

Whatever. Because it didn't really matter as the painful concrete seemed to rise up to meet me.

Not again.

I hit the ground hard and rolled across the street, narrowly avoiding a car from hitting me. Unlike before, with the amount of adrenaline and pain running through my system I was back on my shaky legs momentarily.

Well, now that there was a large fence between-

The red haired woman was scaling the fence… at a very impressive speed.

"Give up already!" I screamed pathetically at her, scrambling through the open black iron gate of the cemetery grounds, ignoring the few surprised people looking at me.

Jesus what a rough day.

* * *

"Control" Natasha drew her sidearm as she approached the gate, people running from the woman with the gun "get local P.D on scene, they can seal off the area and I can take the target down. Send in the tactical teams with me and I'll get him to you alive"

"_Hold Agent"_

Natasha sighed as she slowed her pace. She wasn't stopping, but just giving her superiors time to come to a decision. Because obviously Op's was considering it. They didn't give her an outright no, so someone must think her idea had some merit. So she decided to help them make up their minds.

"Target is still bleeding heavily and has been seriously wounded. If we have to chase him any further he either die from blood loss or continue to expose himself. He's weak and injured Secretary Pierce, seal off the cemetery and let me take him"

Silence.

And then,

"_Green light Agent Romanoff, you have a Green light to engage. Local police force will secure the area surrounding the cemetery"_

Nat smiled, "Thank you Sir"

And the Black Widow strode through the gate, eyes alive and awake even as the sun set on the horizon.

* * *

While Alexander Pierce had less than full faith associated with anyone outside of Hydra's sphere of influence, he didn't doubt for a second that the Black Widow would do her job.

What worried him was that she'd do too well. Natasha Romanoff was an effective asset to any intelligence agency she worked for. As an agent, she was detached, calm and clinical with her work. The fascinating nature was that this part of her could be completely switched off at a notice, leading most of SHIELD's psychological evaluations up in the air about her.

Nick Fury had covered her file with so much red tape and blacked out sections that no one could figure out how such an agent was crafted.

Unfortunate for Hydra, but they had their own operatives, waiting in the wings. And while it would be nice to have someone of the Black Widow's calibre working directly for Hydra and their goals, Pierce was a realistic man.

An Agent like Romanoff was too unpredictable, and far to good at her job to be trusted. Atleast, that's what Nick said, often referring to how he kept the Russain spy on a figurative 'leash'.

It wasn't a malicious intention, simply the safest way to handle Miss Romanoff.

As it was, Pierce had his asset on sight, ready to handle the situation if Romanoff proved too… zealous, in the take down of her target.

He'd give her a small piece of operational control for now, knowing it would keep her placated about the events of today.

* * *

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I hurdled behind a gravestone, clutching at my bleeding leg. I needed a fucking moment… Who were these people, and why did they want me?

For a brief moment, I peaked over the top of the headstone, trying to spot anyone in the darkness. Nothing at the tree line, nothing on the path. I ducked down again, focusing on my leg.

The pain was getting worse… so much worse.

'_Stay awake'_

"Duh" I growled. The roar of jet engines sounded above me, and while not directly over head, the leaves of the trees were being blown away by two large jets, both hovering above the treeline.

The pattern of movement, slow and steady, combined with the large light shining down from the front of the jets.

God damn it they were looking for me.

'But why are they searching the cemetery?'

There was no way they could know I was still within the space. A nasty thought wormed its way to the front of my mind.

'Unless they have the resources to blockaide the surrounding area' the more I studied the obviously expensive and technologically advanced aerial craft, the more likely the thought seemed.

They've trapped me. Caged me in.

'Like a fly in a web'

The jet's were coming in this direction. I had to move. Keep going north maybe, where I could make out the large towers and skyscrapers.

A city.

Standing, I attempted to hobble to the nearest tree, seeking the cover that they provided.

And I say attempted because Miss Redhead was standing under the tree I was making a beeline for. I stopped dead, both of us taking in the other.

'And there's the spider'

This was the closest I'd been to my persistent pursuer and actually gave me a chance to study her beautiful face.

I wonder if her smile was just as pretty.

The voice in my head said only one word before dropping into silence.

'_Natasha'_

Her name, I assumed. How I knew what her name was beyond me. This voice seemed like it helped me out only when it felt like it. Although, it didn't seem like it was telling me to run anymore.

And feeling my leg, I knew I couldn't lose her, she'd be on my ass in a second. Plus, I don't think showing my back to a probable enemy would be conducive to my continued health.

So I came to the last logical conclusion I could. The option I really wish I wouldn't have to take.

Instead of running away, I lifted both fists up in front of my face. Blood ran freely down my leg but my focus zeroed in on her.

I'd fought before…somehow I knew this. And I had won before. So I might be able to win this.

"You just gonna stand there, or are we gonna do this?"

She didn't reply. But the two gauntlets wrapped around her wrists lit up with large sparks of electricity.

I could feel my chances at victory steadily dropping.

* * *

So he had finally stopped running. Even before he spoke, Nat saw his expression change. She knew the path he'd just committed to. Like a scared animal he had been finally cornered, and seeing no other way out he was baring his teeth.

"You just gonna stand there, or are we gonna do this?"

Natasha was too much of a professional to allow a smile onto her face, even if she enjoyed moments like these.

Her target was probably assuming he could take her, that this would be a simple fight against a pretty girl.

Oh she was going to enjoy this.

She keyed the activation for her shock gauntlets, letting them obviously spark to life before she did anything. A last second hint at how outclassed her target was.

She saw him eye the gauntlets, nervously, but his fists remained raised. His stance didn't change.

She could admire that. If he was going to go down, he was obviously going to go down swinging.

The Spy decided she'd make the first move, rushing forward. His obvious weaknesses were his damaged leg, exposed genitals and somewhat guarded face.

Should be a piece of cake, but he'd already surprised them earlier, so Nat wasn't going to take any chances.

Test the waters.

She dropped low, aiming a strike at his stomach.

His right arm dropped with her strike, attempting to block her hit as he stepped back. She managed to notice how he was using the tips of his fingers to redirect her hit. Smart and well trained. He was trying to get a feel for her pattern of attack as well as attempting to avoid the large amount of electricity circulating around her wrists.

This might actually be fun.

Her initial strike retreating back into her guard, the Black Widow brought her other fist forward, gauntlet crackling with power and aimed it right at his face, coming up from her crouch to provide the hit more power.

Her target stumbled back, his eyes going wide as the Gauntlet came closer than what he was comfortable with.

Nat was about to press her advantage but leapt back to avoid a very quick retaliation on his part. He had spun on the ball of his foot, a very sharp kick being aimed at her midsection.

For a moment they stopped a few feet from each other in a somewhat safely cleared distance. Both were beginning to realise how serious the other was.

Only a few strikes had been exchanged, but it was obviously enough for the both of them.

Nat was impressed by how well he was reading her attacks.

A sharp mind like that must know quite a few tricks.

* * *

'Oh, I am sooooo _fucked_' I thought to myself, nearly biting the dust twice thanks to her shock gauntlet things.

She moved so damn quickly! How the hell was I going to win this?

Even attempting to block her hand had been far too close proximity to her wrists. I had basically just poked her elbow to avoid being hit and still the electricity fuzzed my nerves.

Miss Red had been intent on stunning me, that was obvious enough, and she had nearly done so if Inner Me hadn't told me to go for the kick.

Which I had nearly fallen over attempting to do, but she had been too busy dodging to know that.

'She's _way_ out of my league'

Both literally and well… literally.

Damn it.

I guess it was my turn to attempt something.

'_Follow my lead_' Inner Me said calmly, and the image in my head seemed preposterous, but the voice in my head hasn't lead me astray so far.

Natasha was not expecting the cartwheel into a downward axe kick. Her target was obviously strong enough to leap over buildings and 6 meter tall fences, so she wagered his kick would be very painful.

That in mind, she stepped to the side as his leg came down, prepared for the next hit. She'd have to take him down in a grapple.

Typical.

His arm shot forward again, aimed right at her face.

Nat twisted slightly, watching as his fist came across her features, now all she had to do was-

The kick to her back wasn't expected, and it sent her a good 10 feet into a nearby tombstone.

She looked back to him, surprised to see him standing there a shocked expression on his face.

….what? What was he surprised about?

She shook the thought away, even as she brushed pieces of the headstone off her shoulders, a growl finding its way from her lips.

He was going down now.

She stalked forward, arms by her side, and determination splashed across her face.

* * *

Wow, she was hot.

Even I could appreciate the almost tiger like vibe Miss Red generated, fear and all.

But now she was approaching me and I was scared again, that danger feeling once again gripping me.

Red decided she wasn't playing around anymore, and started doing everything she could to get into my guard. Knee's, elbows, even at one point her long hair whipping into my vision was used as a weapon.

I was back peddling the entire time, trying to keep a line of sight on each of her limbs, unsure of where her next strike would come from.

My brain screamed danger before I could register it.

Then her knee found its way between my legs.

* * *

Natasha stepped back into her Kata stance as her target folded in on himself. A soft whine of pain came from his lips as his hands came down to protect the soft target he had presented.

She refused to feel bad about it even as he dropped to his knees before her, unashamed tears coming to the corners of his eyes.

He slowly brought his face up to look at her, sweat drenched blonde hair covered in dirt, branches and dust somewhat pushed to the side, giving her a clear view of his features.

"That" he groaned for a second, "was a low blow" his voice was an octave higher than what she remembered it being.

Somehow, she couldn't help but let a smile come to her face. That was all he had to say? No death threat? Not even a promise of revenge?

"Oh…" he groaned, and Nat was ready for it, ready for the cursing of another defeated opponent.

But she wasn't prepared for:

"You do have a pretty smile"

And he slumped onto his side, unconscious.

Only then did she noticed the large pool of blood beneath him. His heart rate must have helped pump more blood out of his wound…

"This is Widow, Target is subdued and requires a medical team"

"_Confirmed Agent, great work" _

The Quinjet hovering nearby moved towards them, the back of it already open.

* * *

They had a codename for him already.

Icarus.

Barton overheard it from one of the medical officers next to the Gurney that the unknown was currently strapped to.

When his helicopter had peeled off, he'd ordered the pilot to land, and hustled himself across town to the Cemetery, where the active operation was occuring.

Getting himself past the very hastily erected yet still impressive roadblock was nothing difficult, considering he had SHIELD credentials.

And once on sight he was witness to the end of a fight between Natasha and the subject.

Mainly he'd only seen the thing collapse onto its side in a pool of blood.

Medics had shown up, the Quinjet landing and providing a high tier containment unit. One typically used for dangerous prisoners that needed transport to a medical facility.

Operations Director wanted to debrief both of them, so they were to escort Subject Icarus back to SHIELD headquarters along with the medical team.

Quinjets were a smooth enough ride for the operation to begin, and the small pod that Icarus was strapped into was propped open to allow the medics to work.

One of them looked up at Barton, observing his bow and then the leg of the Subject.

Barton cringed slightly, "sorry?" he tried.

The medic huffed but then focused on the work. Barton sighed and turned to Nat, who was still staring at the now somewhat clothed subject. It would depend on if you called a hospital gown clothing, but he didn't have his dick swinging in the wind any longer.

"So…" he started, thinking of something to say, "how was Canada?"

"He could have killed me," Nat noted calmly, factually, as if she had just idly commented on the weather.

"'Scuse me?" Clint dropped the demeanor, turning to look at the unconscious subject.

"His kick… it could have been lethal. I've been doing the numbers in my head and he's capable of putting more force behind his strikes" Natasha finally looked away from Icarus, her eyes on Barton.

"You're wondering why it didn't?"

She nodded.

Barton took a few moments to think, his memory of the operation slowly bringing pieces before him.

After interpreting what he had seen, Clint came to a conclusion.

"It was just trying to get away from us, but it wasn't trying to hurt us. I heard what was happening over comms, it was trapped and knew it. It just happened to be you that pushed the animal's back against the wall. Of course it would come swinging at you"

"But he could have won" Nat hissed, her gaze turning to him, "I don't understand why he didn't. He was so determined to escape he bled over half of Brooklyn on his way out"

Clint snorted, "Hazmat is already bitching about the clean up"

But Natasha pushed on, "if he wanted out, he could have taken me or anyone else sent his way down" she folded her arms under her chest, laying further back into the chair of the jet.

"...some people can't kill" Barton reasoned, having met more than a few people over his life who had a distinct aversion to killing, especially in his line of duty.

"What does that say about us then? If I had been in his position I'd have gone right through me"

"Really? An Alien is giving you a bit of doubt"

Nat eyed Barton for a second, before shaking her head and looking back at the pod.

"What?" he asked, worried.

"He was scared"

And now confused, "what?"

Nat gestured to her own eyes with two fingers, "the eyes. He was scared. I could tell through his eyes. Scared and confused were the only things I saw in them"

Barton said nothing as they transitioned back into silence. Observing the medics as they worked, cautious of the subject waking.

But considering they had enough anesthesia flowing through his veins to subdue an elephant, both were feeling relatively safe.

* * *

"And what's this I hear about an Operation on domestic soil?"

Pierce sighed as Nick Fury stared down at him with an imperial eye, larger and yet far less intimidating on the video screen then in real life.

"Please Nick, I didn't have much of a choice. Our second Unidentified Object decided to alter its trajectory. We calculated the crash site and had units in place"

"And the media?"

"Cover story is in place, and we've got a scrub team going through the social networks"

Nick said nothing, and Pierce sighed, again.

"Look Nicholas" Pierce started, but his old friend cut across him.

"I want a complete operational breakdown, transcripts of communications and a neat explanation as to why you felt the need to hijack _my _department and _my _resources" Fury fumed, his nostrils flared slightly.

Alex knew he was getting off lightly, and so all he did was agree to the directors requests and nodded politely.

The transmission cut off a second later.

"Sir" Agent Jasper Sitwell approached him, "we're just tying up things on the ground. Most of the more problematic witnesses have been dealt with"

Pierce looked up at the balding agent, a glint in his eye, "Problematic?"

Sitwell had enough grace not to crumple before the powerful glare sent his way, and steadily responded, "the officer and old woman, both who directly interacted with Subject Icarus during his escape attempt"

Pierce nodded, understanding the importance of keeping mouths shut.

"And?"

"Reporting in" came a gruff voice from the corner of the dark office. Sitwell tightened up, but Pierce said nothing more. He glanced at the agent briefly and getting the message, Sitwell left just after uttering a polite, "Sir".

A tall man, clad in dark military fatigues strode from the shadows as soon as the agent left the room. He had a metallic arm, intricate yet flawless, hair black as night, and a sour expression.

His face was well known by those that studied American History, hence a mask typically used on missions. But when among those aware of Hydra operations, he needed no disguise.

Alexander Pierce didn't wait another moment.

"Report"

And James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, spoke.

* * *

'_Keep your eyes closed'_

I was awake, and the first conscious thought I had was Inner-Me already dictating my actions. Grumbling slightly I pretended to shift in my sleep, finding out instantly that my hands were tied by something, to something.

The material was unyielding, so, for now, I assumed I had been very securely restrained. Unfortunate.

'_Listen'_

I sighed internally, almost already sick of the orders, but complying as I focused on the room using my other senses.

Ew. I knew the pristine smell of disinfectant and sterilization. I was in some kind of hospital ward, one where they can afford a few extra pieces of security to keep me down. Rightfully so, since as soon as I could figure out where I was, I'd begin my escape.

Once I got out, I'd hightail my way to…

To…

Where could I even go?

I didn't know where I was...

Hell, I didn't know who I was…

'_Focus. Listen_'

In the face of my panic, the voice didn't do much to calm me. In fact, it did the exact opposite. Wasn't it also worried? It wasn't like we were sharing the same head or anything. That we happened to be in the same situation together? Why wasn't it just as worried as I was.

"Screw you" I growled out loud, opening my eyes to look at the room around me. The voice hissed some kind of incomprehensible warning, but I ignored it. I didn't want to listen to it anymore.

…

So I had been kind of right about the whole hospital deal, but I don't think I was ready for what actually lay around me.

I was in what could only be described as a big black box. The ceiling was black, the walls were black, and the floor was black. My bed was grey and my arms and legs were held to a metal pole running around the circumference of the bed frame.

The bed itself was pushed right up against the wall, meaning I occupied half the space in the room, sticking out from the wall, perpendicular to the black surface of my prison.

And it was a prison. It had to be.

Whoever wanted me detained didn't do it for the fun of it. Obviously they wanted to put me somewhere, and now I know where that was.

That is to say, I knew I was in a blacked out cage. I didn't know where my cage was. A mile under the earth, orbiting space, who knew.

Not me, that's for sure.

My musings were cut short at the small musical chime that seemed to come from every corner of the room at once.

A second later and a panel slid open, revealing four men. Two were obviously security, and they flanked the two in the middle.

One was a doctor. I mean, he sure looked like one.

He had a white coat which covered a black tie and grey suit. Obviously an older man, judging by his neatly cropped aging hair, nearly as grey as his suit. His eyes were stern yet observant, a clip board held expectantly in one had, and a pencil in the other.

A little old fashioned, but I didn't take much more time studying him, because the other guy was a real character.

Tall, with a strong stance that screamed military. Or at least, pompous enough to consider himself very important. I didn't take a liking to him, and that probably had to do with the bald head and obnoxious monocle covering his right eye. His clothing was black, much like the two gorillas they disguised as security, but his attire seemed far more neat and immaculate.

They all entered my cage at once, with Monocle man ever so subtly in front of the others.

And they were all looking at me.

Was I creeped out by that? Most definitely.

But was I willing to show that? Not at all.

Perhaps I could extend an olive branch.

"Hi"

…

The guards didn't even shift. All of them blinked occasionally, but they didn't move, respond or even avert their gaze.

They just stood there, looking at me.

"Okay" I said slowly, drawing the word out as I turned my head away to break the uncomfortable gaze that they held on me.

The manacles keeping me attached to the bed suddenly snapped off, causing me to jolt slightly in the bed.

"Ah! Warn a guy next time" I grumped, finally getting the chance to rub my chaffed wrists.

Chaffed.

My wrists had been rubbing up against these cuffs for a long time… means I'd been held in them for awhile now.

"So can I get up? Or…"

The doctor's mouth opened, words about to form. Whatever he said, I couldn't hear. For some damn reason, they weren't making a sound.

In the space that they occupied, not a single noise could be heard. Hell, now that I think about it I couldn't hear them breathe.

Oh.

It took me a few moments to notice it, the translucent panel between myself and them. Jeez, talk about feeling separated.

I was in a cage, within a cage.

Well damn.

I swung my legs over the side of my bed, letting my bare feet hover slightly above the floor. For some reason I was hesitant to take a step….

Out of the corner of my eye the one with the monocle spoke, but this time I could hear it. Not from his lips, but from a speaker, probably embedded into the floor.

"_Welcome to Earth_"

I looked up at him after he had spoken, meeting his gaze for a few moments.

"Thanks, I guess… not really sure how I ended up here"

"_You fell from the sky" _the Doctor had an accent, one that I couldn't place. It was the same accent that Monocle man had.

"Explains the headache" I grumbled, standing, "so what am I doing here?"

Monocle man rolled his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back.

"_Proving yourself valuable by assisting us in our research" _

I didn't like the sound of that.

"And how exactly-"

They must have pressed something. Triggered something. Maybe they didn't like the fact that their test subject was talking back to them, or maybe Monocle Man didn't like the way I talked to him.

But the noise filled my room instantly.

I… I don't know what it was, but all I knew was that it _hurt._

Oh god did it hurt.

I must have screamed. At least, I wouldn't have been surprised if I did. I crumpled onto the floor, curling up into a ball as my hands came to my ears, desperately trying to stop the noise.

Nothing worked. Idly I noted the warm liquid oozing from my nose and eyes…

And then it stopped.

Blood was all over my face, my hands and my hospital gown.

Monocle man took a step closer to the glass, looking down at me with a small smile. From this angle it looked cruel. He looked evil. I knew I wouldn't like him.

"_No more questions. The good doctor will take it from here"_

I really didn't like the sound of that.


End file.
